Summer of 2020 – Page 12 – The (Mostly) True Adventures of Lupe

To the Lost Twin Lakes & Beyond, Bighorn Mountains, Wyoming (7-11-20)

Days 1 & 2 of Lupe’s 2nd summer of 2020 Dingo Vacation to Wyoming & Utah!

7-10-20, 4:15 PM, 82ºF, I-90 just E of the Black Hills of South Dakota – Lupe’s 2nd Dingo Vacation of the summer of 2020 was 13 minutes old. Trouble already!

Maybe we better turn around, SPHP!

Looking that way, Loopster. We’ll get off at the next exit. Can’t be more than another mile or two.

Too late! A few huge raindrops splatted against the windshield. Sort of mushy like sleet. Moments later, I-90 all but disappeared. Cloudburst! The G6 was getting smacked around by wind, hail, and torrential rain. Wipers maxed out, and with the hazard lights on, (for all the good they would do), SPHP slowed the G6 to a crawl.

Upon reaching the exit, SPHP spied a huge Quonset hut. The entrance was wide open. It was full of stuff, but there was room enough to sneak the G6 inside. Hail made a tremendous racket as the metal building got pounded. The Quonset hut leaked a bit, but that was minor. SPHP got out of the G6 to watch the storm, leaving the door open for Lupe, but the Carolina Dog had no intention of abandoning the safe, dry comfort of her stack of pillows and blankets.

Outside the ground would have turned white, but it was raining so hard that everything became a flowing lake, dancing water sweeping the hail along in a muddy current.

Finding this Quonset hut was a lucky stroke, SPHP! Good job!

Thanks, Loop! All luck, though, as you say.

What now? Are we going to return home?

Maybe. Sort of a late start to be heading for the Bighorns, anyway, but I can’t imagine this torrent lasting much longer.

It didn’t. 20 minutes, and the G6 was back on I-90, the last raindrops sprinkling harmlessly as blue sky reappeared. 60ºF! A 22 degree drop, but by the time Loopster crossed the Wyoming border, the pavement was dry and the sun was warming things up again. Beautiful evening cruise ahead!

7-10-20, dusk, Bighorn Mountains a mile S of Powder River Pass – Friday night. Munkres Pass, a favorite spot, was occupied. This would have to do. SPHP stashed the G6 along USFS Road No. 29. Lupe hopped out, sniffing excitedly along the edge of the black forest, thrilled to be back in the Bighorns. Good things were going to happen!

Yes, but not tonight. Too late for that. In the morning, though. Better get a few winks. (10:19 PM, 50ºF)

7-11-20, 8:17 AM, 41ºF, West Tensleep trailhead – Ugh! The backpack was a beast, at least by SPHP’s wimpy standards. Finally ready. Lupe trotted happily along the dusty road leading back to the trailhead. Hadn’t been any room to park there. The whole place was packed. After all, it was a weekend in July.

SPHP paused briefly to register at the trailhead, and the enthusiastic American Dingo was on her way.

At the **West Tensleep trailhead** in the southern Bighorn Mountains.

Although Lupe had been to the West Tensleep trailhead before, she had never taken Trail No. 065 to the Lost Twin Lakes. The trail started out heading NNE in a lodgepole pine forest gaining elevation at a gradual, easy place. Mostly shady at first, but light began filtering through the trees as the sun got higher.

On the **Lost Twin Lakes trail**, No. 065. Photo looks NE.

After going a mile, the trail leveled out completely. The Carolina Dog soon came to a couple of switchbacks leading lower. At the bottom, the trail headed E through a little clearing providing an initial view.

Below the 2 switchbacks enjoying an initial mountain view. Photo looks ESE.

Beyond the small clearing, Lupe re-entered the forest, but not for long. She quickly arrived at a much larger meadow where the trail followed a short stretch of Middle Tensleep Creek, crossing only a minor tributary before entering the forest again.

Cooling off in **Middle Tensleep Creek**. Photo looks E.

At this point, the trail turned NE, away from the stream. This would have been a great spot for a picnic, because a nice shaded waterfall was here, but it was still too early in the day for that.

Waterfall on **Middle Tensleep Creek** 1.5 miles from the trailhead. Photo looks SW.

Loop had lost most of the elevation she’d gained during the first mile by the time she’d reached Middle Tensleep Creek. However, upon leaving the waterfall, No. 065 climbed steadily again, this time at a faster clip. This region was all forested until Lupe got to where the trail leveled out again after gaining 400 feet.

Here, she came to a couple of clearings providing more mountain views.

A glimpse of the high country along the spine of the Bighorns from the N slopes of **HP9640**. Photo looks NE.

Looking SE from the upper SE slopes of **HP9640**.

Beyond these clearings, the trail continued NE back in the forest again, gradually losing 100 feet of elevation before leveling out. From the edge of a vast meadow dotted with boulders, Middle Tensleep Creek was once more in sight down in the valley to the SE.

In the forest NE of **HP9640**. Photo looks ENE.

**Middle Tensleep Creek** (R) comes back into view. Photo looks SE.

This meadow was where a major tributary, the outlet stream from Mirror Lake, flowed into Middle Tensleep Creek. The outlet stream was visible, too, but Lupe saw no sign of another feature shown on the topo map. Trail No. 031 to Elk Park was supposed to cross this meadow and both streams S of a junction with the Lost Twin Lakes trail. However, if No. 031 still existed, Lupe and SPHP passed by without noticing it.

The Lost Twin Lakes trail continued NE, beginning to climb again as it returned to the forest. A curve SE soon revealed a big stream ahead. This was the outlet stream from Mirror Lake, which Loop now had to ford. The American Dingo didn’t mind a bit, stopping to get a cold drink along the way. SPHP managed to rock hop it without difficulty.

Fording the **Mirror Lake outlet stream**. Photo looks SE.

Beyond the ford, the Lost Twin Lakes trail climbed a bit higher before reaching another clearing which provided an update on the progress Lupe was making toward the high country.

Spine of the Bighorns from the Lost Twin Lakes trail. Photo looks ESE.

Going downhill heading NE, Lupe was now very close to Mirror Lake, hidden somewhere among the pines off to the L (N). Naturally, the American Dingo and SPHP were both anxious to have a look at it, and left the trail to find it.

**Mirror Lake** from its S cove. Photo looks N.

Only 10:30 AM, but Mirror Lake was so beautiful, and SPHP was already so pooped from lugging the heavy backpack, that an early lunch break was appealing. Discovering the joyful presence of squirrels almost the moment she arrived, Lupe was totally in favor of staying, too.

Baked chicken and an apple. Lunch was a noisy affair with the shrill Dingo raising a ruckus, but it sure felt good to relax. The placid scene was one of deceptive tranquility. Loopster skipped lunch entirely, but that was her own choice.

Mirror Lake was a good 3 miles from the West Tensleep trailhead, a bit over halfway to Lost Twin Lakes. So far, Lupe had been making decent time. However, she was going to be gaining more elevation between here and Lost Twin Lakes. That meant SPHP would be slower the rest of the way. As pleasant as it was resting in the shade watching ripples on Mirror Lake, lunch shouldn’t get drug out for too long.

When SPHP strapped the pack back on, Loop finally had to tear herself away from her squirrel watching. Turned out that it was a good thing she had gone to see Mirror Lake right away. The Lost Twin Lakes trail never did go right to it, instead staying S of a ridge big enough to hide the lake.

Middle Tensleep Creek was again visible S of the trail as Lupe continued NE in an open valley. Ahead, the valley narrowed, and the trail began climbing faster as it traversed a steep slope just N of the stream. Loop was soon a good 50 or 60 feet above Middle Tensleep Creek.

Heading up the narrow section of the **Middle Tensleep Creek valley**. Photo looks ENE.

Even here, the trail itself was rarely more than moderately steep. Before long, it began to level off as the valley broadened out again. Scattered boulders were now seen strewn across an open hilly region overlooking Middle Tensleep Creek, which wound lazily through lush green grass and tightly packed bushes.

To the SE, Lupe could now see a forested granite headwall 150 feet high. Far beyond it were towering cliffs, part of the giant cirque where the Lost Twin Lakes were hidden.

Approaching the 150 foot high headwall (R). Photo looks SE.

Crossing the hilly region, the Lost Twin Lakes Trail curved gradually SE toward the headwall, eventually taking Lupe down to Middle Tensleep Creek. Although fairly wide, the stream wasn’t deep. Lupe easily waded across, and SPHP manage to find a spot where it could be rock-hopped.

Fording **Middle Tensleep Creek**. Photo looks ESE.

After crossing Middle Tensleep Creek, Lupe was soon climbing among the forested granite formations of the headwall. Anticipation grew as the American Dingo reached the top. Any moment now, Loop might get her first look at the lower Lost Twin Lake.

Nope. The first view Lupe got was not of the lake, but of a bright green swampy region to the SW. A little farther on, a big slab of rock provided a look at what was ahead. No lake here, either. Instead, the trail could be seen crossing a meadow on its way to another headwall still 0.5 mile away.

The second headwall (Center) comes into view. Photo looks SE.

Gah! I was really hoping we’d see the lower lake here, Loopster! Getting mighty tired of lugging this pack.

It must be up past that next headwall, SPHP. Not that far. You can do it! We’re almost there!

Of course, Loop was right. It was all easy until the trail started climbing the second headwall. Nothing hard about that, either, except that SPHP was running out of gas. When the terrain finally leveled out again, sure enough, the lower Lost Twin Lake was in sight, nestled beneath steep rocky slopes and cliffs more than 1,000 feet high.

**Lower Lost Twin Lake** from the 2nd headwall. Photo looks S.

Even though SPHP had been taking lots of short breaks, it was only 1:45 PM. Not a cloud in the sky, and getting out of the intense July sun for a little while seemed like a great idea. Lupe was in favor of hiding out for a bit, too. Climbing the granite formations W of where the trail came up, she discovered a long 8 or 10 foot high boulder providing a nice big shady spot to hang out.

A few small trees were in this area, which was only a little E of the high point of this second headwall. SPHP ditched the pack, providing instant relief to sore feet and shoulders, while Lupe was happy to curl up in the shade. She eagerly made short work of her long delayed lunch of Taste of the Wild. Meanwhile, SPHP snacked on other supplies.

A pleasant lazy-day rest ensued, the only two disadvantages of this spot being that the lake wasn’t in sight, and that mosquitoes harassed both Lupe and SPHP. They weren’t too bad, though, and the less cautious of those evil insects paid with their lives for their bloodthirsty behavior.

45 minutes slipped by before anyone felt compelled to stir.

We came all this way to see the Lost Twin Lakes, SPHP. Maybe we ought to actually have a look at them?

Capital idea, Looper! And I’m glad you waited this long to suggest it. Feeling a bit peppier again. Let’s go have a look-see.

Getting to the top of the exposed rock formations at the headwall’s high point took only a couple of minutes. More of the lower Lost Twin Lake could be seen from here, and even a sliver of the upper one. The rugged setting was spectacular, and would be even more impressive over by the upper lake.

**Lower Lost Twin Lake** from the top of the second headwall. Photo looks SE.

The lower lake was round, but did have an arm that stuck out toward the W.

The **W arm of the lower Lost Twin Lake** is partially visible, but mostly hidden by the lower ridge beyond Lupe. Photo looks W.

The views were also impressive looking back down the valley that the Lost Twin Lakes trail had come up.

**S Fork of Middle Tensleep Creek** (L). The trail came up the R (NE) side of the valley. Photo looks NW.

**Mather Peaks (12,400 ft.)** (Center) from **Lost Twin Lakes**. Photo looks N.

While it would have been easy to go down to the shore of the lower Lost Twin Lake, near vertical rock formations along the E side blocked off any access to the upper Lost Twin Lake from the shoreline. However, it did look possible to get a view of the upper lake by going up and over those rock formations.

Returning to the Lost Twin Lakes trail, Lupe crossed it and headed E up a slope where a twin waterfall could be seen. This slope was full of bushes preventing easy maneuvering, but the American Dingo soon discovered a faint use trail. Unfortunately, the use trail did not take her to the spiffy twin waterfall, instead crossing the stream it was on well above it.

After crossing the stream, the use trail turned S and faded away once past the bushes. Lupe explored higher on a grassy slope dotted with boulders, and soon came to an important spot. A big snowbank and its little meltwater pond filled most of a small depression. Grass grew in the flat region next to the muddy shore of the pond. SPHP was ecstatic!

Yes! It’s really here, and even better than I hoped it would be, Loop. Luck of the Dingo, this is going to work out great!

You’re sure taking this snowbank and mucky 2 inch deep pond well, SPHP. Any particular reason? Care to let me in on the secret?

Oh, you’ll see soon enough, Loopster! Let’s go have a gander at the upper lake first, though, before all that. I’ll bet it’s fabulous!

SPHP ditched the backpack by a boulder not too far from the snowbank. Lupe continued sniffing S up to a high point a few hundred feet away. From here the Carolina Dog had a tremendous view of the upper Lost Twin Lake nestled in a giant cirque surrounded by towering cliffs. She could even see much of the W half of the lower lake.

W half of the lower Lost Twin Lake. Photo looks WSW.

Wow! This is a super scenic spot, SPHP!

Sure is, Loop! Let’s rest here a spell. I thought I was in better shape than this after your last Dingo Vacation, but I’m about worn out.

No worries, SPHP! I’m sort of tired, too. Wouldn’t want to leave a place like this as soon as we got here, anyway, would we?

The Lost Twin Lakes were gorgeous! Lupe and SPHP sat pondering the awesome scene for a long time. It was pretty rocky here, which wasn’t too comfortable for the Carolina Dog, but she could get on SPHP’s lap whenever she wanted to. Already above tree line, there was nothing to obstruct the views in any direction other than the massive magnificence of the mountains themselves.

Trying to relax on the not so cushiony granite. Photo looks NNW.

Spectacular **upper Lost Twin Lake**. Photo looks S.

Oh, my gosh, Looper! We’ve been here an hour and a half. Time sure flies in paradise! We better get going.

Where to, SPHP?

Remember that big melting snowbank in the depression?

Of course! Back there, what for? The pack?

The slope above the snowbank is our route higher. Until we actually got here, I wasn’t sure if it would be too steep or not, couldn’t tell from the topo map, but it’s fine.

How high are we going?

As high as we can get before we run out of oomph. Tomorrow, to the spine of the Bighorn Range!

The snowbank in the depression is seen L of Lupe. The route she would take higher is the green region that swooshes up and to the R (NE). Photo looks N.

Approaching the depression with the snowbank again, SPHP stopped to pick up the backpack. Then it was on down into the depression, and up the slope beyond it. Loopster frolicked in the snow to cool off before catching up to SPHP. The easily passable terrain narrowed considerably near the top of the steepest part of the slope, bordered by rocks to the SE and the stream that fed the twin waterfall to the NW, but the route never got completely pinched off.

The easy terrain soon widened out, still continuing higher at a good clip, though not as steeply as before. The Carolina Dog roamed at will, now heading up a wide, shallow valley, never getting too far from SPHP. This whole area was grassy, and full of pink and yellow wildflowers. Rocks were scattered throughout, with numerous unseen rivulets trickling away beneath them.

After a long trudge, a rocky high point appeared ahead, the first sign that Lupe actually was getting close to the spine of the Bighorns.

Heading for the spine of the Bighorns! Photo looks ENE.

The slope was gradually decreasing, when SPHP had finally had enough. Shedding the pack at a good spot to pitch Lupe’s tiny house, SPHP rested, studying the map before taking that task on. 4 miles to the NNW was a lovely view of the Mather Peaks (12,400 ft.) region, although SPHP couldn’t tell for sure if the true summit was actually in view or not.

**Mather Peaks** (Center) from where SPHP called a halt. Photo looks NNW.

Lupe became excited when SPHP started putting up her orange and gray Marmot tiny house, the new one SPHP had bought for her just last year before her adventures to Loaf Mountain (11,722 ft.) and Bighorn Peak (12,324 ft.). She hadn’t seen the tiny house since then, but it was clear she remembered it.

Bothered by mosquitoes, and tired after today’s long trek, Loop circled the tiny house again and again, trying to nose her way in before it was even fully set up. SPHP tossed the sleeping bags inside and spread them out for maximum comfort, prior to letting her enter. A very happy American Dingo was soon curled up on the softest spot.

Looper spent most of what was left of a beautiful evening snoozing. Not a waste of time judging from her twitching paws and muzzle, since she was apparently quite busy having lots of exciting adventures in Dingo dreamland.

As near as SPHP could figure it, the tiny house was at about 11,100 feet. Lost Twin Lakes Peak (12,015 ft.) was in view to the SW, in addition to the nearby unidentified peak to the E along the spine of the Bighorn Range, and Mather Peaks off to the NNW.

An hour before sunset, the Carolina Dog emerged from her tiny house. So beautiful up here above and beyond the Lost Twin Lakes! For a little while she stood sniffing the W breeze.

Camped near the spine of the Bighorns. Photo looks ENE.

**Lost Twin Lakes Peak** (L). Photo looks SW.

Despite how incredible it all was, Lupe didn’t stay out too long. Ready for dinner, and still short on sleep, she retired early to prepare for her next big adventure along the spine of the Bighorns tomorrow.

Above and beyond the Lost Twin Lakes, Bighorn Mountains, Wyoming 7-11-20

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The Sheridan County High Point, Bighorn Mountains, Wyoming (6-27-20)

Part 2 of Day 5, Days 6 & 7 of Lupe’s 1st summer of 2020 Dingo Vacation to Wyoming!

Continued from Part 1 –

6-27-20, 1:50 PM, upper S slopes of Dome Peak (10,828 ft.) – Getting to the first grassy bench wasn’t the panacea SPHP thought it would be. Instead of having an easy romp the rest of the way down to the 10,300 foot saddle S of Dome Peak, Lupe started coming to a series of green benches separated by 25 to 30 foot steep scrambles lower on jumbles of massive boulders. Loop had plenty of time to enjoy the scenery or sniff about while waiting for that slowpoke SPHP to catch up.

The Carolina Dog had already lost most of the elevation she needed to by the time she came to a large snowbank. A little below it, Lupe finally reached consistently better terrain. Most of the boulder fields behind her, she now made rapid progress through meadows and pine forest, but soon encountered a long wall of rock blocking the way ahead.

Choosing to go E rather than W looking for a way around the wall, Loop found a way to scramble SE up onto it. Flat rocks provided a decent path forward to open terrain beyond the wall. No serious obstacles remained between the American Dingo and her next peakbagging objective – the Sheridan County High Point (11,020 ft.), still 1.5 miles away.

On the big snowbank near the end of Lupe’s descent of Dome Peak.

Approaching the 10,300 ft. saddle leading to the Sheridan CoHP. **HP10565** (L of Center), **HP10740** (R of Center) & **Sheridan CoHP** (R). Photo looks SSE.

A glance back at **Dome Peak**, where Lupe had just been. Photo looks N.

Once S of the 10,300 foot saddle, Lupe climbed steadily through fields dotted with boulders and small trees. She passed W of HP10565, and had already made it to a steeper slope W of HP10740 when suddenly there was movement. 50 feet off to the L (SE), someone was coming down. SPHP waved and shouted, and the stranger strode this way.

Jared was on his way back to his truck, parked several miles NW of here near Woodchuck Pass. He had just completed his second ascent of the Sheridan County High Point. The first time he had been here was 5 years ago with his wife and black lab. Sadly, his dog had since died, and his wife had left him, so he was dealing with memories of better times on today’s journey.

According to trip reports SPHP had read, the Sheridan County High Point has two summits. The N summit is a bit lower than the S one, although not by much. At the high point of the S (true) summit, a large cracked boulder sits perched atop a rocky ridge. A little exposed scrambling is required to get to this boulder, and to get up on top, it’s necessary to shimmy up the crack.

Jared said he’d made it up on top, and had also signed the register at the base of the cracked boulder. SPHP asked for advice on what route to take to get to the boulder? Jared advised staying to the R (W). He’d tried scrambling around the E and SE sides, but found it to be a huge waste of time. Too difficult! And with that admonition, Jared was on his way.

Lupe met Jared on the next slope in shadow on the R. **HP10740** (L), **Sheridan CoHP** (Center). Photo looks SSE.

Lupe and SPHP continued S.

Well, that was interesting, Loopster.

Do you think Jared gave us good advice?

Yeah. He’s just been there, and came from the same direction we are, so it’s probably very good advice.

Was what Jared said different from what you expected?

Not really, but most of the written trip reports I’ve read are a bit hazy on exactly what direction people approached the final scramble to the cracked boulder from. If I remember right, some have said that the SE and S sides are difficult or impossible, so I kind of had the impression that they’ve come up from the SW or W. On the other paw, the GPS tracks I’ve seen come from Coney Lake off to the NE, and they don’t appear to confirm anyone circling around the mountain. Looks like they go right up the E face or NE ridge.

Sounds confusing! Maybe multiple routes exist? Why don’t we just see how things look when we get there?

Hah! That’s always the plan, isn’t it? Or, at least our contingency plan.

Despite SPHP’s numerous brief rest stops, Lupe finally arrived at the base of the Sheridan County High Point’s N slope. Rocky, but not nearly as rocky as Dome Peak’s S slope. Simply a walk up, at least most of the way. After a pause for more heavy breathing and contemplation, the steeper trudge higher commenced.

Closing in on the **Sheridan CoHP** (Center) after Jared departed. Photo looks SSE.

Loopster at the base of the N slope. Photo looks S.

The ascent was all very straightforward. Roughly 100 feet from the top, SPHP suddenly realized that Lupe was lagging behind. Looking back, she wasn’t far away, but was standing stock still gazing intently up at an enormous snowbank off to the R (SW).

Giant deers! 4 of them, except they weren’t really giants yet. They were small giant deers, mere fawns with spots on their coats. The fawns had just crested the snowbank. 2 of them were heading this way blissfully unaware of the American Dingo’s presence. The other 2 were hanging back, bashful and concerned. They already knew the score.

Elk fawns on the **upper N slopes of the Sheridan CoHP**. Photo looks SW with help from the telephoto lens.

Lupe was transfixed! The 2 giant deer fawns ambled slowly closer and closer. Their worried comrades began bleating warnings. Suddenly, the innocents saw both Lupe and SPHP. Instead of returning to their friends, the fawns were off like a shot, racing up the mountain and out of sight. Seeing them flee, the Carolina Dog followed, but they were gone.

The giant deer fawns were the most thrilling thing that had happened all day. Enthusiastically dashing this way and that, sniffing like mad, Loop showed renewed energy during the rest of the ascent.

6-27-20, 4:22 PM, N summit of the Sheridan CoHP – Lupe stood panting on the highest boulder of the N summit. Getting here had been easy. Worth it, too. What a tremendous view! Elk Peak (11,050 ft.) was in sight a few miles away. Far beyond it were Black Tooth Mountain (13,005 ft.), and Cloud Peak (13,167 ft.), high point of the entire Bighorn Range.

The American Dingo was perfectly happy. Tempting to just stay right here, enjoy it all, and call it good.

Not possible.

An irresistible, invisible force laser-focused the eye 200 feet S where the famous boulder sat perched atop a narrow rock ridge. The crack wasn’t visible, but without a doubt that was the boulder the experts considered the true summit of the Sheridan County High Point (11,020 ft.).

Lupe arrives at the **N summit of the Sheridan CoHP**. Photo looks SE.

That’s it, isn’t it, SPHP! The true summit boulder! Why, it hardly looks any higher than where we are right now.

Yeah, hard to tell much of a difference, Loop.

Look at it, though! I can’t get up on top of that, SPHP!

Don’t worry! You won’t have to. This is as high as you’re going, and very nearly as high as that crazy boulder, anyway, so good enough for Dingo work, but I still want to give it a shot as your personal representative.

Are you sure, SPHP? Looks dicey, way more dicey than what we are used to. You aren’t a rock climber.

I know it. Maybe I can’t get up there, either, but while we’re here, we just have to go see how close to success we can get, don’t we? We’ll be very careful, I promise!

A brave speech, but mostly bravado. In fact, SPHP couldn’t really even tell how to get close to the cracked boulder, much less get on top of it. Just because others had done it, that didn’t mean SPHP could.

For 15 minutes, Lupe and SPHP rested atop the N summit. This really was a fabulous spot, but it was getting late. Loopster had to get back over Dome Peak before it got dark, and it was miles back to the G6 after that. If any attempt at all was going to be made on the true summit, it was now or never.

**Elk Peak** (far L). **Black Tooth Mountain** & **Cloud Peak** (L on horizon). **Sheridan CoHP** (Center). Photo looks SSE with help from the telephoto lens.

**Sheridan CoHP’s NW ridge** (R) from the N summit. Photo looks W.

**Dome Peak** (Center) from the **Sheridan CoHP N summit**. Photo looks N.

**Dome Peak** with help from the telephoto lens. Photo looks NNW.

A vertical drop prevented any possibility of heading directly to the true summit from the the N summit. Lupe had to go around either the E or W side of the mountain to get to the connecting saddle. Losing at least some elevation would be required no matter which route she chose.

Even though Jared had clearly advised approaching from the W, the E side was closer. Might as well take a peek at what was involved in that direction. Retreating NE next to a near vertical edge far enough to reach a spot with a partial view, what could be seen looked more challenging than SPHP was anxious to take on. Hard to say for sure without losing even more elevation, but the first impression was listen to Jared.

**E side of the Sheridan CoHP**. Photo looks S.

Lupe now traveled W over to the 10,860 foot saddle leading to the NW ridge. The view from here was still extremely rocky, but somewhat less daunting.

W side of the mountain as seen on the way to the 10,860 foot saddle. **True summit boulder** (Center). Photo looks SE.

Zoomed in on the **summit boulder** (L). The white tube containing the registry is visible. Photo looks SE.

The **10,860 foot saddle** (green area seen R of Lupe) leading to the **Sheridan CoHP’s NW ridge** (Center). Photo looks WNW.

Down in the **10,860 foot saddle**. Photo looks WNW.

**True summit** (R of Center), and the **Sheridan CoHP’s W face** from the **10,860 foot saddle**. Photo looks ESE.

No way around it. Clearly, Loopster was going to have to lose another 70 feet of elevation to get below a steep rock slope and around to the region where she could start up again toward the ridge connecting the N and true summits.

Even after losing the 70 feet, it wasn’t possible to completely avoid a rock hop across talus, but the situation then improved. Coming at it from the W, by staying toward the S side of the slope leading up to the connecting ridge, Lupe found some vegetation among the rocks. The scramble higher wasn’t bad at all.

On the way to the **notch** at (Center) after losing an additional 70 feet of elevation from the 10,860 foot saddle. Photo looks ESE.

The broad valley to the SW. Part of **Adelaide Lake** (L) is visible.

Getting closer. Lupe headed first to the notch on the L, which is the connecting ridge between the 2 summits. Photo looks ESE.

Glancing up at rock formations of the N summit. Photo looks NE.

Lupe directly below the connecting ridge (L). **True summit** (Center). Photo looks SE.

Success! Or was it? Lupe made it to the connecting ridge between the S and true summits, but now what? The true summit boulder was out of sight behind some other large boulders. SPHP could see no safe way past them. Every route looked either impossible, or fraught with danger without some real rock climbing skills. Stymied! After all this effort.

Lupe on the connecting ridge between the N & true summits. Photo looks S toward rock formations of the true summit region.

Could it be? Was this the end? Sure looked like it. For several minutes, SPHP simply stared at the rock formations. Going E was out. Over was out. The only possibility seemed to be to creep SW along a narrow shelf below a big overhanging rock to what looked like a dead end. Nothing else made the least bit of sense.

Looper waited patiently. SPHP finally ditched the backpack. Absolutely no possibility of success lugging that thing along, and it might well cause a fall. Game over. Permanently.

Wait here, Loop. I’m going to check out that shelf. If it doesn’t lead to something we’re outta here. Don’t know what else to do. Don’t even much care for attempting this.

Be careful, SPHP!

Believe me, I will use my best little girl techniques. Laugh all you want. I’ll call you if by some miracle this seems to be panning out OK.

Looking SSW along the shelf below the big overhanging rock.

Creeping along the shelf, SPHP found that it actually went a little beyond the end of the overhanging rock. Just past the overhang was a 90º turn where a different perpendicular rock 14 inches wide provided a ramp along the edge of a precipice. The ramp led up to a much safer spot with a little room. From there, it looked possible to continue higher.

Come, Lupe! Don’t like it, but I think we can make this work. Really have to be careful. No room for error. I’m going to hoist you up onto this rock ramp. All you have to do is run up it to a safe spot and wait.

Loopster came, but she did not want to be hoisted. Letting her attempt a leap, though, would be incredibly dangerous. Uh-uh! No way! After several attempts at persuading the Carolina Dog to cooperate, she finally did. Ever so carefully, SPHP lifted her onto the ramp. She immediately trotted up to safety.

On the shelf waiting to be hoisted. The **connecting ridge** (R) and **N summit** (Center) in the background. Photo looks N.

Above the ramp, below the true summit boulder. Photo looks S.

SPHP was next, but going up that narrow ramp was out of the question. However, between the rock supporting the overhanging rock and the perpendicular rock forming the ramp, was a narrow opening of about the same width. Squeezing through that crack, maybe SPHP could self-hoist the 6 or 7 vertical feet necessary to get up to where Lupe was?

Difficult, nerve-wracking, but it worked.

Looking down the ramp (L) that Lupe came up. SPHP squeezed up through the crack at (Center). Photo looks NW.

I think we’re almost there, SPHP!

Yeah, I do, too. Keep going.

Continuing SW, Lupe trotted beneath the true summit boulder up to the highest rocks immediately W of it. SPHP followed crouched or creeping as necessary. Reaching Looper’s position, there it was – the big crack in the summit boulder!

Lupe up at the entrance to the crack in the summit boulder, part of the N half of which is hanging overhead. Photo looks SSW.

The upper portion of the infamous crack. Photo looks E.

The crack was widest toward the W side where the entrance was, and ran roughly E/W through the true summit boulder, dividing the rock into N and S halves, each about 10 feet tall. Beneath the S half was a hollow area back toward the E big enough for Lupe to get into. She explored it a couple of times, but didn’t want to stay in there.

In the crack beneath the S half of the summit boulder. Photo looks E.

At the entrance to the crack was a white tube which contained a damp, but still legible registry. Ready for a break, SPHP took a few minutes to enter Lupe’s name, and read some of the other entries. The earliest was by Bob & Russ Hamilton on 8-25-1983, who referred to the mountain as Antelope Peak.

In an undated entry, Jay P. of Riverton proposed the name Sheridan Peak, because by then the mountain had become known only as the Sheridan County High Point. Bob Packard had also visited on 9-3-1997. Bob left a detailed entry about this being the 122nd highest CoHP in the lower 48 states, and showing the ranking of other Wyoming CoHP’s as well.

Jared had written an entry only a few hours before Lupe got here. His was the only one since 2015, which made SPHP think there must have been another registry that was now missing.

Loop standing at the entrance to the crack while SPHP fiddled with the registry. The **10,860 foot saddle** she had come from over by the **NW ridge** is visible at R beyond her. Photo looks NW.

Same view minus the canine star of our show. Photo looks WNW.

Upon finishing with the registry and returning it to its resting place, SPHP prepared for the attempt to get up on the true summit boulder. Lupe would have to wait below, which was a worry in itself. What if she decided she didn’t like it here and tried to leave by herself? That part by the perpendicular rock with the ramp was so dangerous! She might fall trying to get down. Better make this quick.

SPHP ditched the camera, which would only get dashed repeatedly against the granite during the antics required to shimmy up the crack.

Loopster, listen carefully. I’m going to try to get up on top. You stay here. Don’t move! Not an inch! Don’t go anywhere! If I get up there, I’m only staying for a few seconds. A quick look around, tap the high point, and right back down. So, stay put!

Waiting below down at the W entrance to the crack. The white registry tube is visible as Loop originally found it. Photo looks W.

In the crack, a little ledge about 1.5 feet up on the N half of the summit boulder provided an initial boost, making it possible to grab a rock wedged over the entrance to the crack, and the upper surface of the S portion of the boulder. The rest was all will power gathering whatever strength could be mustered jamming and shimmying higher.

It was hard, very hard. Limbs shook with effort. Several attempts, and SPHP’s R leg started wanting to cramp. Another attempt. Yes! Barely, but sweet success! Sort of. Not actually sweet. SPHP was petrified.

SPHP! You made it! What’s it like up there?

Airy!

Scary?

That, too! Terrifying! Not much room up here. Stay where you are. I’m coming back down momentarily.

Ever so slowly and carefully, SPHP lowered back down into the crack. Enormous relief when toes touched that little ledge way down near the bottom of the N half of the boulder.

So how was it, SPHP? What were the views like?

Almost the same as from the N summit, I guess. I could scarcely look at them. Couldn’t pry my eyes away from the edge, so horrifyingly close on all sides. When it comes to anything remotely like true mountaineering, I’m a real purist. Pure coward, that is! Never doing that again!

Well, thanks for being my personal representative, SPHP. Glad to hear you had such a fabulous experience! So that’s it? Are we done?

Yeah, for sure. Let’s go, but let me to go first. It’s still dangerous!

The whole ascent process had to be reversed. SPHP was aghast when Lupe didn’t wait to be grabbed and lowered to safety down by the ramp. Instead, the nervous, impatient, but sure-pawed American Dingo snuck down all by herself and leapt to the precarious rock shelf below all on her own.

What an experience! The world seemed a better place once Loop was back at the ridge connecting the two summits. SPHP retrieved the backpack. A couple of final photos, a few moments of calmer reflection, and it was Onward! Puppy, ho!

Safely back down at the connecting ridge. **N summit** in the background. Photo looks N.

View to the NE from the connecting ridge. **Twin Lakes** (Center), with **Stull Lakes** toward the R. **Dome Lake Reservoir** & **Dome Lake** (far R). **Coney Lake** (toward L).

Final moments near the route to the true summit. Photo looks S.

6-27-20, 6:57 PM, back at the 10,860 foot saddle near the NW ridge – Would have been fun to return to the ever-so-relaxing and beautiful N summit of the Sheridan County High Point, but Lupe and SPHP were both tired, and weary or not, the need for speed was urgent. Loopster had to get all the way back to Dome Peak (10,828 ft.), and up and over it before it got dark. Not scrambling that thing in the middle of the night!

Leaving the 10,860 foot saddle by the NW ridge, Lupe traversed the same snowbank the giant deer fawns had been on to get over to solid ground again. From there it was downhill most of the way to Dome Peak.

**Sheridan CoHP’s NW ridge** from the **10,860 ft. saddle**. Photo looks NW.

Starting back to **Dome Peak** (L). Photo looks N.

This time when Lupe got to the wall of rock near the base of Dome Peak, she went around the lower W end, instead of going over it. Her second ascent went well considering that exhaustion was setting in. A better route brought Loop to a connected series of grassy ramps that led higher, permitting her to avoid most of the scrambling on large talus.

By the time Lupe reached the upper S slopes, a new worry was creating additional urgency. The weather had been perfect all day, but now, off to the S, a rain shower was heading for the Sheridan County High Point. Thunder rumbled only a few miles away, and the sky over Dome Peak was already all gray.

Back on the **upper S slopes of Dome Peak** as a dark cloud moves in. **Sheridan CoHP** (L of Center). Photo looks S.

Suddenly, thunder boomed overhead. Lupe and SPHP instantly sought shelter by a boulder. Couldn’t stay here too long, though, or the light would be gone. Several minutes went by without any repeat. Onward!

6-27-20, 9:01 PM, Dome Peak – A chilly wind blew as SPHP helped Lupe up onto Dome Peak’s true summit boulder for the second time today. Several feet NE of the boulder, SPHP noticed something missed during Loop’s first ascent, the Dome survey benchmark.

The need for speed had not abated. Might storm at any moment. Loop’s second visit atop the boulder was necessarily brief. No time to look for marmots under the old fire lookout foundation this time, either.

At the **true summit of Dome Peak** for a 2nd time today. **Sheridan CoHP** (far L). Photo looks SSW.

Before Lupe even made it to the billboard perched along the NE edge of the summit, it started to rain. Thunder rumbled, but not too close by. Loop and SPHP took shelter beneath an overhanging rock close to the billboard, crouching uncomfortably on a slab of ice. A terrible spot in the event of lightning, so close to the billboard’s massive metal support.

Just a squall. 10 minutes and the rain quit. Lupe scrambled down to the level region 80 feet below the summit. She’d made it over Dome Peak, a crucial success, but with little light to spare. Not wanting to waste any of it, SPHP led her NW down the same steep grassy slope the Carolina Dog had come up so many hours ago.

At the saddle S of HP10480, Lupe did not return to the big ridge leading to Rock Chuck Pass. Instead she continued NW down the broad open valley that would eventually get her to USFS Road No. 226.

Progress was fast, at first. Eventually, a light-colored region appeared ahead. With dusk deepening, it wasn’t until Lupe got close to it that SPHP realized she was approaching a vast boulder field. Turning SW to avoid it quickly led into boggy terrain. SPHP’s feet were soon soaking wet, as Looper sploshed through a vast lumpy wetland.

The Carolina Dog was pawing SPHP’s legs, begging to stop for a rest. Almost too dark to see now anyway, so what difference did it make? No longer any advantage to hurrying on. A lone white boulder appeared amidst the swamp. SPHP donned the blue plastic rain poncho, and sat down. Weary, Lupe curled up on a small patch of drier ground at SPHP’s feet. SPHP hunched over her, the poncho forming a protective tent as light rain began to fall.

Nearby, a stream could be heard trickling. To the NW, lightning flickered in a deep gray sky. Farther down the valley, a ragged black line marked the start of the forested region. An orange dot glowed in the distance. Must be a campfire somewhere close to Bruce Mountain.

The lightning was far away, no rumble of thunder. Only the cool breeze could be heard whispering in the soggy wilderness. Lupe didn’t stir. 20 minutes drifted by. Although the lightning seemed closer, the rain quit. The orange dot still glowed, a tiny beacon of hope in a black world.

Loopster, you ready? Sorry, sweet puppy, but I can’t sit here all night on a rock in the middle of a giant bog. We’ve got to keep going.

How much farther do we have to go, SPHP?

About a mile and a half down to USFS Road No. 226. A long 3, maybe close to 4 miles back to the G6 after that.

Going to be a long night, isn’t it?

You said it! But we knew it all along. Our fate was sealed when we left Dome Peak the first time to head for the Sheridan County High Point. Could have just turned back instead, but here we are. C’mon, let’s go!

The soggy trek SW resumed, now aided by the weak beam of SPHP’s little flashlight. The American Dingo pressed on looking for drier ground and a decent route lower. Crossing numerous tiny streams, she finally got past the bog, reaching firmer terrain. Turning NW again, Lupe roamed down a long slope, aiming for the glowing orange dot. To the N, all those trickling streams joined forces. For a while, Loop followed the S bank of the resulting larger creek.

The terrain steepened. Boulders appeared. The rushing stream plunged noisily down a series of small cascades. The rocks became increasingly numerous and difficult to deal with. What little flat land existed among them was usually boggy. Lightning flashed, intermittent light rain fell, thunder rumbled in the distance. Lupe persevered, but traveling slowly, losing lots of elevation.

Upon reaching the forest, the orange dot disappeared. Among the first trees, the ground was better, permitting a faster pace, but deadfall soon began to appear, forcing Lupe to wander in search of ways over, under, or around it all.

The stream became a gushing, plunging torrent, constantly reinforced by small tributaries and seeping bogs. Boulders the size of cars and trucks made it necessary to stay well S of its banks. Rocks, trees, deadfall, bogs! The steep descent went on and on. This time it was SPHP that called a halt. Dropping the backpack, SPHP laid on the ground. Not at all adverse to stopping, Lupe curled up nearby, her wet fur glistening.

Give me 15 minutes, Loop.

Relax! No big rush on my account, SPHP. How much farther now?

To the road? No clue. So hard to tell in the night; it magnifies and distorts everything. Seems endless, doesn’t it? But it can’t be.

Laying there in the forest in a spot that would be impossible to ever find or recognize again was one of those strange memorable night moments that sometimes occur in the mountains. Breaking the otherwise deathly still silence, Woodchuck Creek, for that was what it had to be, roared like Niagara. Shared exertion, uncertainty, experience and deep exhaustion produced an eerie sensation of profound togetherness, as if sharing some great secret here amidst the black, unseen unknown, illuminated only by the little flashlight’s feeble beam.

SPHP stirred.

Alright! Let’s get to the road, Loop!

Down, down, forever down through a wilderness of trees, boulders, and dark slopes. A giant snowdrift backed up Woodchuck Creek, producing a pond that had to be avoided. Up and over the snow and a rock ledge, then down some more scrambling through giant rocks.

The terrain finally began to level out. SPHP kept seeing the road ahead, but Lupe only came to fallen tree trunks. At last she arrived at the edge of the forest. A barely perceptible level line a bit higher than where Lupe was now was ahead. This time, that had to be the road, didn’t it?

The open ground leading to it wasn’t the nice, easy field SPHP expected. Another bog. Figured! Straight on through it, though. The American Dingo led the way.

Woot! Loopster stood on the road, grinning in the flashlight beam. She’d made it! No. 226! Couldn’t be anything else. 2 miles at most from Dome Peak, which was forever ago. Seemed like 10. No worries now, though. Well, maybe one, but it was still a good mile and a half away. Lupe headed N on No. 226, the sky dripping a few raindrops, although any lightning and thunder had long since moved on.

The Carolina Dog was making tracks now, yet the night spell stretched mere minutes into eons. At last, an unmarked side road went uphill to the L (NW). Must be No. 268 going to Calvin Lake. No. 226 curved lower and continued on. 0.5 mile later Lupe was standing on the S bank of the E Fork of the S Tongue River. The final obstacle!

The first few feet of river bottom showed up clearly in the flashlight beam. Not deep at all. Beyond that, the river’s smooth surface stretched away over a black void beneath. 30 feet across? Maybe something like that. Possibly less, the way the night played mind games. Lupe stood waiting for SPHP, no longer anxious to lead.

This same ford had looked like an easy wade way back this morning, a century or two ago. Exhaustion and darkness combined to produce a sense of unease. SPHP turned back, heading S toward the edge of the forest along the W side of the road.

Let’s rest, Loop. Not as certain about this as I was.

SPHP took off the blue plastic Cookie Monster look-alike rain poncho, and spread it out on the ground, laying down with the backpack for a pillow. Lupe curled up next to SPHP. The dear Dingo was wet, but as warm as a furnace.

30 minutes dragged by. Light rain set in again. Sleep would not come. SPHP’s feet were sore and wet. The ground, hard and cold. Everything ached. Lupe grew tired of SPHP’s constant shifting, and wandered off. That was the last straw.

Nothing to it! The water couldn’t have been much more than a foot deep the entire way. Lupe didn’t have to swim a stroke. Without the slightest hesitation, the Carolina Dog had followed SPHP into the cold, black void, waded effortlessly across, and shaken herself off on the N bank.

Up on USFS Road No. 26, Loopster trotted E. Less than 2 miles to go! SPHP could scarcely walk, but plodded gingerly after her anyway.

In the nick of time! 10 minutes after Lupe reached the G6, the sky opened up and rain poured down. Within the dry comfort of the G6, it was a soothing sound. (End, 6-28-20, 3:52 AM, 44ºF)

6-28-20 – A gray day. Continuously overcast, with periods of intermittent fog, rain, or mist. Didn’t matter in the least. Neither the American Dingo nor SPHP were in any shape to do much of anything, anyway. How very fortunate that Lupe had gone on to the Sheridan County High Point from Dome Peak yesterday! No doubt both were lost in the clouds today.

Between meals, Lupe snoozed peacefully, only occasionally venturing out of the G6 to bark at squirrels. SPHP caught up the trip journal or napped. By evening it was raining again.

6-29-20, 5:59 AM, 44ºF – Clouds clung to the mountains. Wisps of fog drifted in the valleys. The gloom was particularly dark toward the S & W where Lupe’s next adventures were to have taken place. This Dingo Vacation could have been extended a couple more days, if the weather had cooperated, but given the circumstances, and with company due back at home before the 4th of July, well, this was it. SPHP turned the key, the G6 sprang to life, and Loop was on her way.

Herds of deer and elk roamed the ghostly early morning fields. Some took their chances running across the foggy highway. Lupe barked like a Dingo possessed. Even a couple of moose put in appearances, before the road dropped, snaking down out of the Bighorns. From I-90, only the lowest foothills of the Bighorn Range were visible. A steady mist kept the windshield wipers slapping.

6-29-20, 11:21 AM, 86ºF, Black Hills of South Dakota – Home again. The lawn was brown, totally parched. Not a drop of rain had fallen here. Lupe’s first Dingo Vacation of the Year of Perfect Vision was over. She’d finally broken the long peakbagging dry spell the new year had brought. It had been a grand time, and great preparation for adventures yet to come.